


all terribly hopeless and adolescent

by Goodgriefcharlie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6051526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodgriefcharlie/pseuds/Goodgriefcharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greenberg was born in Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all terribly hopeless and adolescent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jerakeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerakeen/gifts).



> This is in response to Jerakeen's [post](http://jerakeenc.tumblr.com/post/57263051327/nobody-knows-what-greenberg-looks-like-they-know) on tumblr from ages ago: _nobody knows what greenberg looks like. they know he’s there but if you ask them whether he’s tall or short, blond or brunet? anything specific, and they won’t remember. you think the coach is crazy? well you try being obsessed with a kid whose face you forget as soon as you leave his immediate vicinity and we’ll see how well you cope._ Thanks for the inspiration, lady!  <3 
> 
> Uploading here mostly for archiving purposes. Unbetaed.

The truth is simple: Greenberg was born in Night Vale.

His family left before City Council had approved and distributed phase stabilizers for multidimensional beings, so he has to rely on a notice-me-not spell so as not to frighten the single-dimensional humanoids in the wider world. It's tiring, renewing the spell so frequently at his family's bloodstone circle, and the chanting can be quite complex, so sometimes he messes up, overdoes it, thinks too emphatically about blending in, and ends up spending the next few days involuntarily deflecting light and sound waves. Sometimes he can adjust the spell enough that a few people are able to continually sense his presence again, a wispy mirage wavering at the edges of humanoid sight. It's quite an effort, though, and usually results in a terrible case of earworms.

Unexpectedly, Greenberg's found that even on days when he's rendered essentially invisible, waves diverted completely around all forms of his being, Coach always seems to know where he is. Greenberg can't explain it. He should feel unsettled by it, maybe even report him to the Sheriff's Secret Police (who are still monitoring his family, a courtesy extended to all Night Vale residents who moved away after the Street Cleaning Incident of '09). Instead, every time he hears Coach say his name, a feeling not unlike the thrill of being hit by an armadillo cast down from the Glow Cloud comes over him.

It's all terribly hopeless and adolescent, he knows, but can't seem to stop himself from dreaming that one day, maybe after graduation, he'll ask Coach out and Coach will say, "Greenberg, stop stalking me in my office." (Which, Greenberg freely admits, is perhaps not the most conventional way to agree to a date, but if he wanted conventional he'd have stayed in Night Vale and dated Michael Sandero.) Maybe they'll go see his favorite band, Atmospheric Pressure, or have dinner at the best pizza place after Rico's and bond over eating forbidden wheat and wheat by-products, or perhaps, seeing as they are both athletes, even attempt bowling, although Greenberg isn't sure it holds the same attraction without the fear of malevolent underworld beings attacking and disrupting his run of baby splits.

Still, even if Coach does turn him down and Greenberg has to throw himself into working on his latest pteranodon sculpture to distract himself, he knows his life in Beacon Hills could be much, much worse. He could be Derek Hale, after all, who seems to be attempting to live his life with hopes of one day being happy, unaware that a Quasi Supernormal Incremental Angst Inducer--an angst god, in layman's terms--has attached itself to his etheric body and grows exponentially stronger every Monday. Now, normally Greenberg is not one to criticize another multidimensional being's feeding habits, but really, the misery and death in Beacon Hills lately has been a bit excessive. Perhaps it's time Greenberg gave Great-Aunt Josie another call; her angel friends could likely recommend an accredited exorcist, or failing that, a dietitian.


End file.
